Authors: Eliza Lentzski
"I'm not a dog," the California girl pouted.
"You're kind of ruining this for yourself, blondie," Faith laughed. "Keep your trap shut and just enjoy the show, will ya?"
Faith popped the top button of her jeans and dragged the zipper down. Buffy immediately went silent. Her mouth was suddenly very dry, and she wet her lips like a predator sizing up its prey.
Her hips still wiggling in time with the music, the Boston girl hooked her thumbs at the waistline of her pants and shimmied the material down her hips, past her toned thighs, and down her legs. She removed her pants to reveal a pair of dark blue boi shorts. The stretchy material clung to her curves and accentuated the muscle tone of her upper thighs. Buffy nearly salivated thinking how perfect the brunette's tight backside must look in the form-fitting shorts.
Faith hooked her pants with the toes of her right root and flicked the jeans at the seated blonde. With her hands tightly clenching the bottom of her chair and her brain preoccupied, Buffy's slayer reflexes failed her and the jeans smacked her square in the face.
Buffy gave a startled cry. "Hey! I didn't realize I was going to be attacked by clothes," she protested.
Faith exploded with laughter. "God, I wish I had a recording of the look on your face just now. That might have been the funniest sound I've ever heard, too."
Buffy looked sour. "Some strip tease," she grumbled.
Faith cocked an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Oh really?" she exclaimed, her tone mockingly serious. She feigned reaching for her discarded pants. " ‘Cause I can stop right now if it's that bad."
"No, no!" Buffy protested. She grabbed the pants from the floor and tossed them into a far corner of the room. "Don't stop," she pouted. "I'm having fun."
"All right," Faith scowled. "But not another word from you or the clothes go back on. Understand?"
Buffy grinned and nodded enthusiastically. Faith smirked at the smaller slayer's enthusiasm and continued.
Moving her body with the hypnotic beats, Faith grabbed the bottom hem of her top and pulled it up her torso. She inched the material up, tantalizingly slow, revealing inch after inch of toned, slightly tanned flesh. The shirt shimmied up her abdomen and continued upwards to reveal a black sheen bra, more sporty than flimsy.
Faith removed her shirt entirely and grinned at the elder girl. "Heads up, B," she chuckled, tossing the shirt in her direction.
Buffy snatched the garment out of the air and resisted the urge to bury her face in the material. No doubt the younger slayer's top smelled like her. Buffy wanted to inhale that warm, spicy scent - to fill her nostrils with Faith's natural perfume. Instead, she kept the t-shirt on her lap.
Still wiggling and swaying her slight hips, the Boston girl turned until she was no longer facing the blonde. Faith's toned legs were straight and about shoulder-width apart. She abruptly bent over, just a few feet from the seated blonde. The material of Faith's dark underwear stretched deliciously over her ass cheeks, and she swayed her backside slightly in the air. Buffy nearly choked on her tongue at the erotic sight, and her eyes bugged out of their sockets.
With her back still turned to the blonde, Faith stood and reached for the back clasp of her bra. Buffy held her breath as she watched the brunette deftly unfasten the garment. Faith turned back around and held one hand across her chest, keeping her bra from falling off. She shrugged out of the shoulder straps and finally let the black garment fall away.
Her breasts stood up proudly and her nipples were already at attention. Buffy bit back a noise. Her sister-Slayer looked so soft and...edible.
Buffy swallowed hard as she watched the brunette softly pad closer to her. The brunette's dark eyes flashed dangerously, and Buffy audibly groaned when the dark-haired girl straddled her lap.
"Not supposed to touch," the blonde managed to choke out.
The Boston girl gave her sister-Slayer a wicked grin and flung her arms over the smaller girl's shoulders. "I didn't say anything about me not getting to touch..."
Knowing that disobeying Faith's "rules" might abruptly end her lap dance, the elder slayer gripped the bottom legs of her chair. The wood creaked and whined under the stress, threatening to snap off.
Faith leered. "Good girl," she murmured, fully enjoying the control she held over the elder girl.
Buffy shuddered when the Boston girl began to slowly grind on her lap. It took all of the Chosen One's willpower not to clamp onto Faith's flexing upper thighs or nuzzle her face between the Boston girl's naked breasts. As the brunette continued to straddle the smaller slayer, Buffy was wildly aware that only the thin cotton-blend separated the younger woman's sex from the tops of her own skirted thighs.
Even without Slayer senses, the blonde would have been able to feel the wet heat radiating from Faith's core. Buffy imagined slipping her hand under the waistband of the nearly-naked girl's underwear and gliding her fingers through her wetness.
"Fuck, you feel good," the blonde sighed contentedly. At the elder slayer's words, Faith's movements stilled.
"Buffy, it's late," the Boston girl stated in a defeated tone. "Shouldn't you be getting home?"
The Californian frowned. "You're kicking me out?" she asked incredulously.
Faith shook her head. "Not exactly. I just don't want you gettin' in trouble if someone's expecting you at home."
The younger slayer climbed off the other girl's lap and grabbed her wife-beater off the ground. Buffy instantly missed the heat of the brunette's curvy body and nearly cried aloud when Faith pulled her top back on, covering her naked breasts.
"I texted Willow on the way over here," the blonde informed the other slayer. "She knows where I am. She'll make sure Dawnie's okay for the night."
"That's not what I meant..." Faith trailed off, shaking her head.
Buffy gave the Boston slayer her best pout. "Can I stay the night?"
"I don't know...can you?" the younger slayer countered, folding her arms across her chest.
Buffy's face showed no amusement. "Don't play word games with me."
Faith's gaze flicked at the hotel bedside clock as though she had someplace to be. "Fine. I guess you can stay the night," she said reluctantly. "I'm gonna go brush my teeth," she said in a flat tone.
Without another word or glance, the Boston girl left the blonde, still sitting in the chair where she'd received her Bachelorette Party gift. Faith turned on the bathroom light and closed the door behind her.
Buffy felt uneasy about the abruptness to which Faith had ended her lap dance. She didn't know what she had done or said to upset the brunette, but she knew she'd done something wrong.
The elder slayer looked around the room while Faith busied herself in the bathroom. There were two double beds crowding the main space. The blonde wondered which bed Faith had been planning on using. She worried too that maybe the Boston girl wouldn't even want to share the same bed.
Buffy briefly considered shoving the two beds together, creating a California King-sized mattress, but worried it would come off as too presumptuous. Deciding against it, she shed her skirt and top and slid under the covers of the bed closest to the bathroom in only her bra and underwear.
The bathroom faucet turned off and the bathroom door opened. Faith emerged, her mouth strangely contorted as she flossed her teeth. The sight was comical - the dangerous brunette in her devastatingly sexy shorts and thin top, padding across the hotel carpet, flossing her teeth. Buffy giggled from the bed.
"Shouldn't neglect your gums," Faith worded around her probing fingers.
"I'll keep that in mind, Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman," the blonde quipped.
Faith snorted and threw away the used floss. "You wish I was a hooker," she leered. "Couldn't afford me on your salary, Peaches.
The Boston slayer seemed to hesitate momentarily before deciding to join the elder girl in the same bed. She kept her tank top and underwear on, however.
"Is this okay?" Faith asked, settling onto the pillows beside the blonde.
"It's your room," the Chosen One reminded her. "You can sleep wherever."
Faith made an indistinguishable sound.
The mattress sank and crisp cotton sheets rustled as the Boston girl rearranged her body on her side of the bed. Buffy sucked in a sharp breath and her body tensed when Faith's arm was suddenly draped across her chest.
"I'm just turning off the light," the younger girl grumbled. "Don't jump outta your skin." The brunette reached further across the smaller girl's form and turned off the bedside reading lamp.
"My skin is fine," Buffy shot defensively. "I was just...hoping."
"For what?"
"That you were going to kiss me again," Buffy admitted honestly.
Faith cursed under her breath. The golden-haired slayer was testing the limits of her willpower. "You're getting married in like a week, Buffy," she sighed.
Buffy worried her bottom lip, but remained silent.
Faith propped herself up on one elbow and stared at the other woman through the darkness. "Cancel the wedding," she challenged, "and I'll kiss you all you want."
Buffy laughed bitterly. "You make it sound so easy."
"It could be," the Boston girl grumbled, flopping back onto her backside.
"Could you just...hold me? Like on Christmas Eve?"
Faith's heart ached. She didn't know how much more of this torture she could handle. "Yeah, I can do that," she rasped in a voice thick with emotion.
The mattress shifted and sheets rustled once again as the two women repositioned themselves.
Faith slid her arm beneath Buffy's pillow and pulled the smaller slayer close. The Californian rested her head on the taller girl's breastplate and laid a hand flat on Faith's abdomen. The brunette's tank top had ridden up on her stomach and Buffy could feel the heat pouring from that ribbon of flesh.
The dark-haired woman's heart thudded heavily in her chest cavity. Buffy timed her own breathing with the rhythmic thumping, enjoying the gentle rise and fall of Faith's chest beneath her head.
"Night, B," the Boston slayer murmured. She tenderly kissed the top of the blonde's head.
"G'night, Fai," the Chosen One replied, snuggling herself deeper into Faith's flesh.
Faith remained awake; she could tell that the small blonde had immediately fallen asleep - her breathing was even and her quiet sighs filled the hotel room.
Nothing made sense to the Boston girl anymore. If Buffy was so into her, then why did she refuse to call off the wedding? That old phrase about letting the things you love go, flickered through her mind. Maybe if she left, Buffy would realize her mistake and not marry that guy. Or maybe Buffy really was waiting for that grand gesture like Kennedy had suggested.
But what else could she possibly do to prove herself to the blonde? Ever since they'd met as teenagers, Faith had always felt she was trying to prove something to the Chosen One. Prove her worth. Prove her station as a capable slayer. And now here she was fumbling to prove her love.
What did Buffy want from her? Did she need to write it in the clouds? Buy a billboard on the highway or plaster her feelings on a jumbo-tron?
After a few troubled hours, the brunette finally relented and allowed herself to sleep. But as she slipped out of consciousness, she realized she was even more confused than before.
+++++++++++++++++++++
A sharp rap at the door awoke the blonde slayer from her deep slumber.
"Housekeeping!" a slightly muffled voice announced from the hallway.
The golden-haired slayer flicked her eyes at the red illuminated clock next to the bed. It was just after 10am. And she was alone in the hotel bed. Another insistent knock pulled Buffy out of bed and she hastily pulled the crisp white sheet from the double mattress and haphazardly wrapped it around her naked body.
The housekeeper on the other side of the door looked startled when Buffy opened the door. "Oh!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping her keys. "You surprised me. I'm sorry," she chuckled at herself, "the front desk told me the girl in this room was gone already."
Buffy pulled the sheet tighter around her nearly-naked figure. "Uh, I'll be out soon," she grimaced. "Just give me a few minutes."
The Chosen One closed the door and turned to face the expanse of the room. Buffy scanned the room briefly, looking for any evidence of the Boston-born slayer, but came up empty. It was as if she'd never actually stayed in the room. Even the plastic key card she'd recalled seeing on the bed stand was no longer there.
The blonde woman quickly dressed and ran her fingers through her sleep tussled hair before exiting the room. Eschewing the stairs, the small slayer took the elevator. She bit back a groan when the lift doors opened, and she recognized the elderly couple from the previous night.
The graying man stepped to one side to make room for the Chosen One. "Good morning," he greeted as Buffy stepped into the elevator. Wrinkles crinkled at the corners of his eyes as he beamed at the young woman. "Did you have a good talk last night?"
"Harry!" his wife hissed under her breath. She elbowed her husband and looked wildly embarrassed for the duration of their elevator ride.
When the elevator reached the lobby level, the Californian hastily existed, but stopped at the front desk. A tall, thin woman with curly hair arranged in a tight bun stood behind the reception desk.
"Excuse me," Buffy started in an apologetic tone. Her fingers nervously drummed at the countertop. "Can you tell me if the girl in room 537 checked out?"
The hotel employee looked at Buffy briefly and then flicked her eyes toward a computer monitor. Her fingers flew over the elevated keyboard. "Ah, yes," she confirmed with a nod. "She checked out a few hours ago."
Buffy swallowed hard. "Did she...did she leave a note or anything?"
The receptionist shuffled some papers around and then looked back up at the blonde with pity apparent in her green eyes. "No, I'm sorry, Miss," she stated. "There's no message."